


Nicknames

by jensenacklesruinedmylife



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bunker Fic, Cuddling & Snuggling, Destiel - Freeform, Fallen Castiel, Fluff, I LOVE PET NAMES OK, M/M, Nicknames, One Shot, Pet Names, Pillow Talk, Protective Dean Winchester
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-15
Updated: 2013-07-15
Packaged: 2017-12-20 07:56:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,357
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/884854
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jensenacklesruinedmylife/pseuds/jensenacklesruinedmylife
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cas falls and needs somewhere to stay, so he and Dean share a room.<br/>Sometimes Dean can't sleep, so he talks to Cas, thinking the ex-angel is asleep. </p><p>But Castiel hears everything.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nicknames

Since the fall, Cas had been sleeping on an inflatable mattress in Dean’s room. Sam had offered him his room, but Cas began going on about his and Dean’s “more profound bond” and Sam had rolled his eyes and left it alone after that.

While Sam seemed to find Castiel’s sudden humanness child-like and basically treated Cas like a preschooler, Dean found it frustrating because so much had changed and Cas had just accepted it, like it was fate.

Dean may have also been frustrated with the fact that he had undeniable feelings for the man in the trench coat.

He found himself rushing to Castiel’s side whenever the fallen angel stubbed his toe or dropped a plate.

Or sneezed.

He also found himself taking Cas with him whenever he left the bunker. Not because he didn’t trust Sam with him or anything, but he didn’t want anything bad to happen to Cas while he was out.

It was ridiculous, how protective Dean was being. Sam made fun of him, of course, reminding him that he did the same thing for Sam when they were younger. Because Dean loved Sam, and wanted to keep him safe.

Dean didn’t want to think about what that implied about how he was treating Cas.

Cas didn’t seem to mind, though. Dean got the occasional frustrated sigh, and maybe a “I’m alright, Dean, really.” But not much else.

Cas and Dean grew inevitably closer, and if Sam noticed how close they stood together while Dean taught Cas how to cook in the kitchen, or their lingering glances across the dining room table, he didn’t mention it.

One night, around 3AM, Dean couldn’t sleep. His mind kept focusing on the slumbering figure on the floor beside his bed. He longed to touch Cas, to feel his body beside his own, but that was just weird.

“You’re killin’ me, angel.” Dean said quietly, then turned to try and catch a few hours of sleep before the morning.

The next night, Dean found himself unable to sleep again. He lay on his side and looked at Cas, watching his chest rise and fall.

After a few minutes, Dean mumbled, “Such a sweetheart when he’s sleeping,” before forcing his eyes shut and willing sleep to overtake him as well.

The night after that, Dean called to Castiel from his bed.

“Cas?” he whispered, but got no answer. “Caaaaaas,” he said, a little louder, but Castiel didn’t budge. “Mr. Comatose,” Dean grumbled before pulling the covers up over his head.

The fourth night, things got interesting.

It was late, as usual, and Dean was once again staring at Cas while he slept. He would have felt bad, but Cas did it to him all the time when he was an angel, so why couldn’t Dean?

Dean’s fingers played with his sheets, trying to resist the urge to reach for Cas, pull him up and close and never let him go. It was a disgustingly romantic thought, but Dean could only deny his feelings for so long. He wanted to be close to Cas, to have physical evidence of his presence. The fall hadn’t hurt him or killed him. He was alive and well and with Dean.

With a sigh, Dean whispered, “Sweet dreams, baby,” and rolled over to sleep.

He didn’t expect to feel his bed dip with the weight of another body five minutes later.

Before he could turn to sucker punch the intruder, Dean felt warm hands wrap around his middle and knew immediately who was in his bed.

“Cas?” He asked, a bit stunned by the sudden display of affection. “You alright?”

“‘M fine, Dean,” Cas responded, voice rough with sleep as he breathed a yawn onto the back of Dean’s neck, and if that wasn’t the cutest fucking sound Dean had ever heard, he didn’t know what was.

“Dude,” Dean asked, debating whether or not he should cover Castiel’s hands with his own. “What are you doing?” Dean’s voice was about an octave higher than he anticipated.

“Don’t pretend you have a problem with this,” Cas mumbled groggily. “I’ve heard the way you talk to me at night.”

“You what!?” Dean was genuinely surprised. “I thought you were asleep!”

“I know,” Cas replied softly, “I didn’t want to interrupt you with silly details.”

“Cas, you shoulda-.”

“I like the nicknames.”

“What?” Dean racked his brain to remember what he had called Cas recently.

“Angel was the first one,” Cas said, as if reading Dean’s mind. Dean wondered if he could still do that. “Which is ironic, since I’m not anymore.” Castiel’s grip tightened slightly around Dean’s waist and Dean felt terrible.

“Cas, I-.”

“It’s okay,” Cas continued, “Sam said it is a human term of endearment.”

Dean turned around then, startling Cas enough that his hands moved away. “You’ve been telling Sam about the things I say? You’re not even supposed to hear those things!”

Cas chucked, seemingly pleased with Dean’s frustration. He reached a hand up to play with his short hair. “It’s really okay, Dean.”

“No, it’s-.”

“Shhh,” Cas placed a finger to Dean’s lips. Dean’s eyes went wide. “Sweetheart was the second one. I like that one better. But how would you know if I’m sweet, Dean? You’ve never…tasted me.”

Dean coughed then. “It’s a figure of speech, Cas. Another term of endearment.”

“Oh,” Cas said, eyes falling to Dean’s lips. “That’s unfortunate.”

Dean was stupid sometimes, but he wasn’t an oblivious idiot. Cas wanted to kiss him, that much was obvious.

“What, uh. What was the next one?” Dean asked, feeling awkward.

Cas pulled back then, staring Dean in the face. “Mr. Comatose?”

And Dean laughed, because he hasn’t expected Cas to actually be offended by that one. He’d have to use it more often.

“Cas, that just means-.”

“I am well aware of what that means, Dean, and seeing as I’ve actually been awake all this time, it’s incredibly inaccurate. Sam says nicknames should represent who they’re used for.”

“Sam is a big ol’ nerd,” Dean said, more to himself than anyone. Of course, his little brother was already ruining his non-existent love life.

But then, Cas sank back into Dean, tangling their limbs and placing his face less than an inch from Dean’s. Dean hadn’t noticed just how blue Castiel’s eyes were till then. They were so fucking blue, and Dean couldn’t look away.

“And tonight,” Cas continued, “you called me ‘baby’.”

“I did?” Dean squeaked.

“You did. Sam says you only call the Impala that.”

“Sam’s right,” Dean swallowed. He was suddenly extremely dehydrated.

“Sam says if you call someone else ‘baby,’ you must really like them.” Cas moved his face impossibly closer.

Dean’s breath hitched. “Sam’s right,” he repeated softly.

“Did you mean to call me an infant? Or was it…a term of endearment, again?” Cas asked, pretty blue eyes wide and looking so deeply into Dean’s own green ones that he thought Cas was seeing right through him.

“Uh…endearment. Again,” Dean managed to say, his lips brushing Castiel’s as he spoke.

“Good,” Cas whispered, and just like that, Dean was 100% gone for the ex-angel of The Lord.

Dean smashed their lips together, probably a bit too rough, but Cas took it, opening his mouth when Dean’s tongue begged for entrance. Dean flipped them so he was lying on top of Cas, straddling his hips. Castiel’s hands found his hair and pulled him closer. Dean kissed him, over and over, deep and passionate and bruising until he was panting, and Cas was almost literally out of breath.

Sometime that night, they fell asleep.

The next morning, Castiel awoke first and found himself tucked tightly into Dean’s side. Dean’s t-shirt had somehow made its way onto Castiel’s body, and Dean lay shirtless and fast asleep.

Castiel smiled and propped himself up on one elbow, drawing lazy circles on Dean’s bare chest with his fingers. He looked at Dean’s face, admiring the way his long lashes fluttered as he slept, the freckles on the bridge of his nose, his plush pink lips, and came up with his own nickname for Dean.

“Beautiful.”


End file.
